


catching lightning

by TechnicalTragedy (orphan_account)



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Childhood Friends, Coming Out, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hyung Kink, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 17:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15586533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TechnicalTragedy
Summary: It starts out innocently enough.(or: Junhoe figures it out quick, but Bobby takes his sweetass time.)





	catching lightning

**Author's Note:**

> wowie first iKON fic! just recently got into them and i am enamored. also apparently all i can write is praise kink and fwb and fluff so i'll die i guess. this got superrrrr out of hand and was originally just meant to focus on junhoe's praise kink but i got carried away as per usual so!!! its a longish one
> 
> fair warning u might get secondhand embarrassment because i sure did feel awkward writing some of these scenes lmao
> 
> enjoy <3

Bobby found out about it accidentally, back when he and Junhoe didn't know Hanbin or Donghyuk or anybody and they were still virtually inseparable. It'd been a hot day – a hot summer, really – so he and Junhoe were at Junhoe's house, since Junhoe's parent's were at work. They were drinking in Junhoe's room.

 

While Junhoe was taking a long pull off his beer, a thought occurred to Bobby. “Hey, hey June. Do you have anything stronger around here?”

 

Junhoe blinked at him, processing his words for a moment before setting down his bottle and getting to his feet. “Yeah, I think we got some. I'll just, y'know, go check 'n stuff.”

 

“Good boy, June,” Bobby said at Junhoe's back. He immediately noticed the change in Junhoe: his back stiffened, his shoulders pushed back, his hands clenched, he froze on the spot. “Uh, June? You okay?”

 

After a moment, “Say that again,” Junhoe said.

 

“Say what again? Good boy, June?” Bobby said, watching his friend closely. He heard Junhoe's breath catch, and he shuffled his feet a bit.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Junhoe said, and ambled off in search of more alcohol.

 

Bobby frowned to himself, mind spinning. “Hm. Weird,” he said, then promptly forgot all about it.

 

Junhoe, apparently, didn't.

 

The next day – at Bobby's house because Junhoe's mom was home – Junhoe stared at Bobby for so long that Bobby was starting to get uncomfortable.

 

“Dude, what's up?” he asked.

 

Junhoe's cheeks turned pink, and he looked away immediately. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”

 

Bobby sighed. “Thinking about what, June? 'Cause you're looking at me a lot.”

 

“About, well,” Junhoe trailed off, wringing his hands in his lap.

 

“Oh, c'mon. You can tell me,” Bobby said, bumping Junhoe with his shoulder.

 

Junhoe pursed his lips, then let out a little sigh and squeezed his eyes closed. “I, um, Imaybekindasortalikeditwhenyoucalledmeagoodboy,” he said in a rush.

 

Bobby blinked at him. “You what?”

 

“You heard me, dick, don't make me say it again,” Junhoe said, cheeks now bright red as he looked anywhere but at Bobby.

 

“You like me calling you a good boy,” Bobby said, trying to get clarification.

 

Junhoe huffed, standing like he was going to leave. “It's stupid, and dumb. I'll just, ugh, this is awkward now, I shouldn't have said anything.”

 

Bobby thought for a split second about what to do before he instead decided to not think. “You're not being a very good boy, June,” he said.

 

The reaction he got was visible once again. Junhoe sucked in a breath and froze, standing perfectly still with his back to Bobby.

 

“You, uh, you wanna be a good boy, right?” Bobby said, feeling weird and uncertain. Maybe he should've just let it drop-

 

“Yes,” Junhoe said in a tiny voice, still facing away.

 

Bobby reached up and grabbed his wrist, tugging him down, “Sit, June.”

 

Junhoe swallowed and let Bobby pull him down to sit.

 

“Good boy, June,” Bobby said, tentatively petting over Junhoe's hair with his free hand.

 

Junhoe slid his wrist out of Bobby's grip so he could hold onto Bobby instead, fingers tight around Bobby's forearm. He closed his eyes as Bobby pet him. “Thanks,” he said eventually.

 

They stopped touching each other. “No problem, bro,” Bobby said.

 

And that had been that.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Junhoe’s always looked at Bobby like he's an open book, like Junhoe can read him the way he never could read words. Junhoe looks at Bobby and Bobby is convinced Junhoe sees everything.

 

It’s odd, to be so completely known.

 

“You’re really gay,” Junhoe says, not unkindly. He’s not looking at Bobby, just fiddling with the beer bottle in his hands. The label is peeling away where Junhoe’s fingernails pick at it.

 

Bobby snorts. “I’m not gay, man. Maybe, like, bi? But I don't wanna have sex with a dude. Like, bi but also straight. I mean, would a gay guy bang as many chicks as I do?”

 

Junhoe shrugs and keeps messing with his empty beer. “I dunno, dude. I’m not an expert on gay guys. All I really know is that you’re super gay. But it’s okay! I’ve known for a while now.”

 

“I don’t know how many times I’ve gotta tell you, dude, but I’m not gay,” Bobby insists.

 

“Bobby, it’s okay to be gay. Gay marriage is even legal now! And, uh, well. I have something to tell you,” Junhoe says. He reaches for another beer, pops the cap off on the bar.

 

Bobby frowns, his eyebrows drawing together into a weird V-shape that Junhoe secretly thinks is adorable. “Are you gay?” Bobby says. “I mean, ‘cause that would explain a lot about you.”

 

Junhoe takes a deep swig of his shitty beer. “I’m not _gay_ -gay. But,” he hesitates, wets his lips. He’s been thinking about saying this for years now, probably, but only recently has Junhoe started to feel like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get it off his chest. “I’m, y'know, kinda a little bit maybe sorta into you? I'm gay-ish, but probably just like, I don’t know, Bobby-sexual? It sounds stupid, but-”

 

“You’re into me? Like, you would wanna bone me?”

 

“Well,” Junhoe says, “yeah. I mean, why would I not wanna bone you? You’re my best friend.”

 

“Hanbin is our best friend too, you wanna bang him?” Bobby says.

 

Junhoe thinks for a second. “I mean, maybe,” Junhoe sighs, taking another drink and turning to face Bobby fully. “Bobby, he isn’t you. You’re my best friend in the whole world, for almost my whole life. I, yeah, I know a lot changed when we became friends with all the others but, but none of them are you.”

 

Bobby takes a thoughtful sip of his own beer, leaning back to look Junhoe up and down like he’s an appraiser. “So it’s just me? You’re only into me.”

 

“I don't know, I guess somewhat? I did say I might bone Hanbin, too,” Junhoe reminds Bobby. He shrugs, “I don’t know, dude. You’re pretty much one of the only things that’s ever done it for me.”

 

“You beat off to me?” Bobby asks.

 

Junhoe rolls his eyes. “I don’t see how that’s relevant-”

 

“I think it’s very relevant-”

 

“Well, it’s not really, so just-”

 

“C'mon June, just tell me-”

 

“Yeah! Yes, Bobby, I think of when when I masturbate. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Junhoe says.

 

Bobby shrugs. “I guess so.”

 

There's a silence that stretches on for much longer than what could be considered comfortable. Junhoe drinks, Bobby drinks, Junhoe's empty apartment is a tomb around them. They'll live here, die here, be buried here. This is the soul of everything.

 

Bobby downs his beer in one long swallow. “I'll see you later.”

 

Junhoe doesn't watch him go.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

It sucks to be in love with somebody who's hung up on someone else. Junhoe and Bobby have been friends for just about as long as either of them can remember, rotating in the same orbit and sharing space. It had been good for a while, maybe even great. They cuddled up together, held hands when they needed to, got high, got drunk, got their shit kicked in, did stupid stuff just because they were dumb kids.

 

A lot of that changed when they met Hanbin.

 

Suddenly it wasn't Bobby-and-Junhoe, it was Bobby-and-Hanbin; it was Junhoe shunted out of his usual, fun fucked-up nonsense and into unusual, lonely fucked-up nonsense. Junhoe became second choice, and stayed second choice.

 

Bobby was and would always be Junhoe's first pick, and that's the kinda shit Junhoe thinks about when he's older and on lonely walks home from their group's latest scheme. Yunhyeong and Chanwoo fuck off to wherever they disappear to, everybody else goes home to sleep like some kinda regular people, and Hanbin and Bobby go back to their apartment to watch movies or jerk each other off or whatever the hell they do when they're alone.

 

Seoul is a whole different city when you're walking it alone at night.

 

Junhoe listens to sirens wailing in the distance, stray animals howling and hissing from alleyways. He doesn't feel safe, of course, because no one really feels safe alone at night, but he feels weirdly at peace. He'd feel safer with Bobby, despite the fact that that asshole doesn't know how to fight. Junhoe's always felt safe with Bobby in ways he can't begin to explain.

 

He keeps his head down and walks against the cold night air.

 

He doesn't feel better.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

“Hey, Bobby,” Junhoe says, surveying himself in the mirror. “Would you fuck me?”

 

“Would I _what_?” Bobby asks from behind him. “I'm not gay, dude.”

 

Junhoe sighs, “Yeah, sure, I know. But if you _were_ gay, do you think you would bang me?”

 

Bobby frowns, considering. He stares at Junhoe's ass, deeming it to be alright. “Turn around,” he says.

 

“What? Why?” Junhoe asks, even as he turns around.

 

Bobby looks him over, lingering on his crotch and chest areas. “Hm,” he says. “I don't know. Maybe I would bang you.”

 

Junhoe's face lights up with a grin. “You mean that? You would have sex with me?”

 

“ _If_ I was gay, I _might_ consider having sex with you,” Bobby clarifies.

 

“Aw, that means a lot to me, man,” Junhoe says. “You know, I've been so worried that nobody will ever wanna fuck me and I'll just get older and lonelier and I'll never find love and I'll die alone!” There's a moment of heaviness, then Junhoe laughs, high and strained.

 

Bobby clicks his tongue, not really sure how to respond.

 

“Man, whatever,” Junhoe says. “Let's just. Let's just, y'know, uh, get fucked up. I think I still got some shit around here so we can just. Yeah! Right?”

 

“Sounds good, dude,” Bobby says, and that weirdness between them fades as they kill brain cells together.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Later, it comes back up.

 

“Bobby, you think I'm a good guy, right?” Junhoe asks while they're watching some shitty show on Junhoe's TV.

 

“I don't know, I guess,” Bobby says.

 

Junhoe is quiet for a moment, then, “You, uh, so you would call me a good man?”

 

Bobby sighs, “Yeah, June, you're a good man.”

 

Another beat of silence. “And I was good when we were younger? I was a good boy that grew up into a good man?”

 

“Sure, you were a great boy,” Bobby says, rolling his eyes.

 

“But was I a _good boy_?” Junhoe asks.

 

“Alright, dude, what the fuck is this about? You're really making me feel weird about this,” Bobby says, standing up off the couch.

 

Junhoe looks up at him and rather than stand to try and match Bobby's height, Junhoe seems to shrink down a little more. “Well, I-I-I don't know, man. I don't see what the big deal is. I mean, would you say I'm a good boy?”

 

Bobby puts his hands out, a sudden thought hitting him, “Wait, wait. Is this some kind of sex thing? Are you gonna, like, _get off_ on me calling you a good boy or whatever?”

 

“What?” Junhoe splutters, cheeks turning pink. “No, no! It's, dude, I mean c'mon, that's not. I wouldn't ask you to- if I wanted- no way, man, no way.”

 

Bobby narrows his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “Junhoe.”

 

“Look, Bobby, could you just. Just say it for me. Once. One time, and never again,” Junhoe says. He scoots forward on the couch, looking up at Bobby through his eyelashes. He's seen women do it before, so he's sure he looks hot. “Please?”

 

“But I don't get anything out of this except feeling like a creep, June!” Bobby complains. “If I'm gonna play along with your weird kinky shit, I want something out of it, too.”

 

Junhoe pouts. “It's not weird. It's normal. And, and it's not, like, a kink. It's just, y'know, I just want you to tell me I'm a good boy, Bobby.”

 

Bobby gives him a _look_. “That's _weird_ , dude.

 

“What do you want? Money? 'Cause I don't have any money. I don't have a lot to offer you, actually. I will, uh, oh!” Junhoe says, brilliant. “I'll buy all the booze for the next year!”

 

Bobby rolls his eyes. “We don't _buy_ booze.”

 

Junhoe groans. “Then what am I supposed to give you, man? I can suck you off or something, if you want a sexual favor. That's about all I can offer.”

 

“No, I don't want you to suck me off,” Bobby immediately says, frowning deeply.

 

“Oh, come on. I've done it before, it's not that big a deal,” Junhoe says. “You can even fuck my face, I don't mind. Pull my hair, if that's what you're into. Hell, if you were willing you could fuck my ass. But for that I'd need more than just one 'good boy,' let's be clear.”

 

“June, what the fuck,” Bobby says. “Dude, you've sucked my dick before?”

 

Junhoe snorts. “No, man. Not your dick. Just, y'know, dicks in general. It's not a big deal.”

 

Bobby balks at him. “Not a big deal? June, you just offered to let me fuck you in more ways than one. I need you to be real with me here: are you gay?”

 

Junhoe shrugs. “We've talked about this before, man. I don't know.”

 

“Really? 'Cause you sound a little bit gay,” Bobby says. He doesn't know when it happened, but he feels like he's a lot closer to Junhoe than he was a couple minutes ago, and he isn't sure who moved.

 

Junhoe rolls his eyes, “Look, are we gonna do this or not?”

 

Bobby grimaces, “Man, I don't know. Isn't this gonna make shit weird?”

 

“Bobby, it's not gonna make shit weird. We're just a couple guys doing each other a favor. It doesn't have to be weird. I'll just suck you off or something, you'll tell me I'm a good boy, and that'll be that,” Junhoe assures Bobby. He reaches out, and Bobby doesn't push him away when Junhoe rests his hands on Bobby's hips.

 

“This seems kinda gay, June,” Bobby says.

 

“Okay, just a few days ago you told me I was fuckable,” Junhoe says.

 

“Yeah, _if I was gay_. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay or whatever, but I'm not gay!” Bobby insists.

 

Junhoe starts to knead at Bobby's hips, nodding. “Sure, yeah, I know. But this isn't gay.”

 

“It isn't?”

 

“No, no. This is just two pals helping each other out. It's just a favor between best friends. If we aren't gay, then us having sex isn't gay sex. And if you _think_ about it,” Junhoe says thoughtfully, “us having sex right now is almost like, an obligation.”

 

Bobby frowns. “How is us having sex an obligation?”

 

Junhoe shrugs, his hands sliding down the fronts of Bobby's thighs, dangerously close to his dick. “We're best friends, and best friends help each other out. You've been weird and tense lately, and you haven't gone out and got laid in a while. So really, we might _need_ to have sex with each other to prove we're great friends.”

 

“I have not been _tense_ ,” Bobby argues, putting his hands on his hips while Junhoe starts to rub at his thighs.

 

“You kinda have been, dude,” Junhoe says.

 

“If you're gonna suck my dick, get on with it. The longer we talk the less I want to do this,” Bobby says abruptly.

 

Junhoe grins up at him, stilling his hands. “Yeah? You wanna do this?”

 

“Sure, whatever,” Bobby says.

 

“Jiwon I need you to say yes or no, not 'whatever,'” Junhoe says.

 

Bobby rolls his eyes at the use of his real name.”Uh, yes,” he says. “Yeah, _Junhoe_ , I want to do, um, whatever the fuck we're gonna do. I'll call you a good boy, you'll suck me off.”

 

Junhoe nods, seemingly satisfied, and reaches for the zipper on Bobby's jeans. He pops the button and starts to pull Bobby's pants down, noticing that Bobby is only a little bit hard, but Junhoe can work with that. Bobby's jeans are pushed down around his thighs and Junhoe presses his face into Bobby's crotch, breathing deeply.

 

“Christ, June, are you sniffing my cock?” Bobby asks, unsure if this is something he's into.

 

Junhoe doesn't respond except to start shimmying Bobby's underwear down. He wraps a hand around Bobby's dick almost instantly, lapping over the head to shut Bobby up.

 

Unfortunately (or perhaps very, very fortunately), this has the opposite effect. “Ah _fuck_ ,” Bobby says. His fingers paw at the air, so Junhoe encourages Bobby to grab his head. Hands comb through his hair, gripping and releasing in a weird, but somehow relaxing, rhythm.

 

Junhoe wraps his lips around the head of Bobby's cock, his own hands going to rest on Bobby's ass. The heavy weight of Bobby on his tongue, growing harder every second, has that familiar restless something in Junhoe settling, calming. Junhoe pushes forward, taking Bobby down easily. This is something he's good at, something he enjoys doing, and it feels even better when Bobby's hips jerk forward just a bit, forcing his dick farther into Junhoe's mouth.

 

“Good, uh, good boy,” Bobby says, awkward but trying. “You're taking my dick so well, June, you're doing good.”

 

The words send a bolt of heat straight to Junhoe's groin despite the hesitance. He sinks further down, opening up as he feels Bobby's cock bump up against the back of his throat and moving forward until his nose is buried in Bobby's pubes.

 

Bobby makes a choked sound above him, fingers clenching in Junhoe's hair and holding him there. “Fucking _fuck_ ,” he sighs. All Junhoe can do is keep himself relaxed while Bobby rolls his hips against his face.

 

Finally Bobby backs off, and Junhoe sucks in a quick, deep breath. He swallows around Bobby, undulating his tongue alongside the bottom of his cock while Bobby takes over.

 

“Good boy, June. Oh fuck, it's. It's like you were _made_ for sucking dick,” Bobby groans as he pistons his hips. “God you're good at this. You're such a slut, dude, practically _begging_ to suck me off just so I'll say you're a good boy.”

 

Junhoe groans, fingers digging into Bobby's ass, helpless to do anything else. It's an awkward angle, sure, to be sitting on the couch sucking him off instead of crouched between his legs on the floor, but Junhoe can deal with it. Bobby is already moaning, spitting curses and spouting off shit about how Junhoe's a _slut_ , about how _amazing_ his mouth is. Junhoe's pretty sure Bobby is already about to come and it's been a few minutes at most.

 

Bobby pushes forward hard, burying himself down Junhoe's throat. “God _damn_ , man. I'm gonna come, I'm gonna fucking come,” he says. His hips buck and he has enough time to say “Good boy, June, you're such a good boy for me,” before he's blowing his load down Junhoe's throat.

 

Junhoe maneuvers Bobby onto the sofa, since his legs pretty much give out. While Bobby is breathing and coming down, Junhoe gives himself a moment to replay Bobby's words, hearing “you're such a good boy for me,” over and over and feeling warm and happy.

 

“Are you gonna, ah, take care of that hard-on you got?” Bobby asks.

 

“I dunno,” Junhoe answers. He gives his dick a look, considering whether or not he cares enough to jerk himself off.

 

There's a tense silence, Bobby thinking so loud Junhoe can almost hear him. “Do you need me to...” Bobby trails off.

 

Junhoe sighs. “You don't have to.”

 

“But I could,” Bobby says quickly. It's almost too quick, if the look Junhoe gives him means anything.

 

“I mean, if you _wanna_ , I wouldn't say no to a handjob,” Junhoe says. “But I don't know if that crosses any lines for you.”

 

Bobby snorts. “Dude, you sucking my dick was basically all my lines being crossed. If you want me to, I could try.”

 

“I dunno, do _you_ want to?”

 

“God, June,” Bobby says. He tugs at Junhoe's wrist until he gets the idea and clambers into his lap, and Bobby starts working on Junhoe's pants. He pulls Junhoe out of his boxers, spits in his palm, and starts stroking him fast and rough.

 

“Shit,” Junhoe says. He bites down on his lip until he tastes blood. Bobby is surprisingly good at jerking somebody else off, and Junhoe makes plaintive little noises against his will, hips pushing up into Bobby's hand like they have a mind of their own.

 

It takes a little while, just a bit more time than what Bobby is entirely comfortable with, but eventually Junhoe says, “Fuck, shit, I'm gonna come, dude.”

 

Bobby wets his lips, and before he can stop himself he tilts his head to speak into Junhoe's ear, whispering, “Such a good boy. Come for me, June. I got you.”

 

Junhoe whines Bobby's name as he comes, fingers clenching and hips twitching as Bobby keeps stroking him through it. They both take a moment to clear their heads, and Junhoe rolls off of Bobby so they can wipe themselves off with a t-shirt laying on the floor.

 

“Hey, uh, thanks,” Junhoe says.

 

“Thanks to you too, I guess,” Bobby says. “You're pretty good at the whole, y'know, blowjob thing.”

 

Junhoe nods. “Yeah.”

 

Bobby nods back at him. “Mhm.”

 

Bobby looks ready to bolt at any moment, so Junhoe takes pity on him. “Well, better not keep you here any longer. I'm sure you have a busy day-”

 

“Oh yeah, super full schedule. You know how it is,” Bobby agrees, pushing himself up off the couch and pulling his pants back up.

 

“So, I'll, uh, see you tomorrow, maybe?” Junhoe says.

 

Bobby shrugs, “Uh, yeah. See you around, June.”

 

“See you, Bobby,” Junhoe says at his retreating back. Bobby leaves, and as soon as the door closes Junhoe thumps his head against the back of the couch, letting out a deep groan. “Fuck my life,” he whispers to the air.

 

Unsurprisingly, there is no response.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Not much changes right away. Sure, Bobby is weird around Junhoe for a couple weeks, but they fall back into their usual easy camaraderie without much fanfare. Junhoe's just glad to have his best friend back.

 

Junhoe could be imagining things, but he swears Bobby's eyes linger just a little longer on his lips than necessary. He wonders if Bobby thinks about it a lot, if he's jerked off to the thought of Junhoe's mouth or his tongue or his ass or his- y'know, whatever else people jerk off to. Junhoe sure has, his thoughts consumed with it for a full week and he's sure for a minute that he'd jerked off so much he wass gonna get calluses on his dick. Junhoe catches Bobby staring, catches his curious expressions, his deep thoughtful frowns.

 

It comes to a head late one night, when there's a knock on Junhoe's door.

 

Bobby looms in the entryway, eyes plaintive as he says, “Hey, June. I, uh, well. Hanbin kicked me out for the night so I, y'know, brought some beers. Can I come in?”

 

Of course Junhoe lets him in. They make their way to the couch, a tense atmosphere around them. Bobby keeps wetting his lips, sets the beer down on the table and wipes his palms on his jeans. Not looking back at the beer, he settles on the couch next to Junhoe.

 

“Dude, I have a confession to make,” Bobby says.

 

Junhoe tilts his head to the side to show he's listening. He clicks down the TV volume by a few just in case.

 

Bobby blows out a breath. “Okay. So. I, um, I'm not gay. But I can't stop thinking about you sucking my dick. It's been driving me totally fucking nuts and I wanna, uh, I wanna know if you, maybe, possibly, understand where I'm coming from?”

 

“Oh,” Junhoe says, because of all the things he thought would happen tonight, this wasn't anywhere in the book. “Well, I, um. Yeah. I get you, man.”

 

“I want you to do it again.”

 

Junhoe blinks at him. “Uh.”

 

Bobby's mouth twists. “Don't you want to? I've seen you staring.”

 

“ _You_ have been staring, dude!” Junhoe says. “And you aren't gay.”

 

“We established that this isn't gay, June,” Bobby admonishes. His brow creases into that familiar V. “C'mon, I thought you were into me. I _want_ you, dude.”

 

Junhoe swallows. “I, well. You know I want you, too.”

 

“Then what's the issue? We could be, uh, whatever they call it. Friends with benefits.”

 

“Do people actually have those?” Junhoe says. “Like, outside of movies and crap TV shows.”

 

Bobby waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, man, obviously. It's, like, a total non-issue. Are you down or not? 'Cause just thinking about it is making me wanna gag you with my dick.”

 

Junhoe salivates, interest piqued. He shuffles closer to Bobby, eyes already on the prize. Bobby is hard, the bulge in his sweatpants evidence of the fact that he's been thinking about this weird _it_ between them now. Junhoe hesitates, looks to Bobby to make sure he's sure, and Bobby just spreads his legs in invitation.

 

Steeling himself with a quick breath, Junhoe clicks the TV off.

 

“Lay back,” he says.

 

Bobby raises an eyebrow, but does what Junhoe says without comment.

 

Junhoe widens Bobby's legs further to make room for himself and, without further ado, yanks his pants (just his pants, because the bastard isn't wearing underwear) down far enough for Bobby's dick to spring out, hard and attentive. He doesn't want to meet Bobby's eyes, but he does. Junhoe can feel how red his face is, how embarrassed he is about being so easy, but the almost predatory look in Bobby's eyes makes his stomach lurch with heat.

 

He decides to tease, since he didn't last time.

 

A long, slow lick up the vein on the underside of Bobby's cock has him groaning appreciatively. A hand comes to rest casually on Junhoe's head - not directing, just toying idly with his hair. Junhoe gives little kitten licks around the tip, tonguing at Bobby's glands for a moment before pressing wet kisses around his base.

 

“You're teasing me,” Bobby says, sounding amused. He cards his fingers through Junhoe's hair, letting his fingernails scrape at his scalp. “I might get impatient.”

 

Junhoe hums, not too afraid. What's Bobby going to do, fuck his throat? It'd be nice for both of them. He starts in earnest anyway, though, mostly because he himself is losing patience with the slow pace. This isn't what Bobby came here for, and it's not Junhoe's favorite part of sucking dick.

 

As Junhoe's mouth slides over Bobby's shaft, Bobby starts talking, just like he had last time.

 

“Ah, shit. That's good. You look pretty with your lips stretched around my dick,” Bobby says. “Hyung told you to stop teasing and you did, didn't you? 'Cause you're a good boy for me. My good boy.”

 

Junhoe feels himself flushing redder, ashamed by how much he likes to hear Bobby refer to him as his.

 

Bobby starts rocking his hips, the hand in Junhoe's hair slipping to the back of his head. “Mm, I couldn't stop thinking about your mouth,” Bobby admits. “Hanbin kicked me out 'cause I was making too much noise jerking off to the memory. Fuck, do that again. Yeah.”

 

It's a slower blowjob than the first one had been, Bobby seeming to revel in how Junhoe lets him control the pace. He buries his cock hilt-deep in Junhoe's throat and holds him there, mumbling about how Junhoe's mouth feels. Junhoe pinches Bobby's thigh when he starts to feel like he's dying, and takes a few deep, ragged breaths once Bobby's dick isn't suffocating him anymore. He jerks Bobby off while he catches his breath, not looking at him.

 

“Thought about how it might feel to fuck you, too,” Bobby says. “Never fucked a guy before, but I figure you're not really just a guy, are you?”

 

There's a weird, bloated silence. Junhoe is holding Bobby's dick but isn't jerking him off.

 

Bobby tugs at Junhoe's hair, makes him meet his gaze. “June?”

 

“You could fuck me,” Junhoe blurts. “If you wanted to, I would let you.”

 

A satisfied grin creeps over Bobby's features. “I know you would. You'd let me fuck you raw, wouldn't you? Probably beg me not to use a condom. And since you're such a good boy, I'd listen.”

 

Junhoe ducks his head, uncomfortable with his dick pressing insistently against the inside of his tight pants. The one time he doesn't wear his signature sweats, and this is what he gets for it. God, he wants Bobby to fuck him silly, but he isn't sure if that's where this is really headed, or if Bobby is going to chicken out on him in a minute.

 

“Do you...” Junhoe swallows thickly. “Do you _actually_ want to fuck me? Hyung?”

 

Bobby's dick twitches in Junhoe's hand at the honorific, which Junhoe files away for later.

 

“I want to fuck you so hard you can't walk,” Bobby says. His grip on Junhoe's hair tightens briefly to the point of pain, and he shifts his hips upward as if seeking friction.

 

Junhoe has to close his eyes against the wave of arousal he feels. “That,” he says, hoarse, “could be arranged.”

 

Bobby pulls at Junhoe's hair, tugging him up so he has to crawl over Bobby's body unless he wants to lose his scalp. Bobby's free hand travels up Junhoe's chest, wrapping firmly around his throat. He squeezes just hard enough for Junhoe's air supply to be cut off.

 

“Shit, June,” Bobby says, voice barely above a whisper. “When'd you get hot?”

 

Junhoe can't answer, nor would he even if he could. The way Bobby is looking at him is thrilling, is everything he's ever wanted. He can't let himself think this is real, can't get carried away and let his feelings rule him, but Junhoe has needed Bobby to look at him like this for so long that its felt like a physical ache. He would do whatever it took to keep this hungry, almost awestruck expression on Bobby's face.

 

“You got lube?” Bobby asks.

 

Junhoe nods, pulling back so he can root around in his side table, eventually coming up with a little tube of lube. He wriggles out of his pants, and Bobby shoves his own down around his ankles. Junhoe straddles Bobby's thighs, shoving two fingers into himself recklessly, barely bothering with three before he figures he's wasted enough time and lowers himself onto Bobby's dick.

 

It burns, sure, but Junhoe doesn't care when Bobby is clutching onto his hips like a lifeline.

 

They take a moment to get their bearings, then Bobby is fucking up into Junhoe before he even has a chance to start trying to ride him. Junhoe groans, feeling like the sound's been punched out of his chest. He tries his best to keep up, but Bobby is fucking him hard and fast, teeth sunk into his lower lip and sweat shining on his brow.

 

“June,” Bobby pants. “Ah, you feel so good. You're so good, look so pretty getting fucked.”

 

Bobby pushes Junhoe so he falls back, his neck aching where it hits the armrest of the couch, but Bobby is shoving back into him, kneeling between his spread legs and fucking Junhoe like his life depends on it. With the new angle, Junhoe feels his prostate getting nailed, feels heat burning in his guts and behind his eyes and perspiration sticking his shirt to his chest. His long legs hook together behind Bobby's back, pulling him in deeper, wanting more and harder.

 

A hand returns to Junhoe's throat, pressing hard until all he sees are stars in his vision.

 

He hears bits of Bobby's rambling, hears praise and cursing and his name, again and again.

 

Junhoe's never come untouched before, but he's about to. He can only whine as Bobby bends him nearly in half and pounds into him. Junhoe is blistering, he's fucking ascending. All he knows is Bobby and the thick, numbing haze of pleasure shrouding his mind. He's burning up, he's made of fire and Bobby is stoking him to blaze brighter than ever.

 

“Bobby, Bobby, Bobby,” Junhoe feels himself saying. It's the only word he can remember, the only one that's ever meant anything to him.

 

The hand braced on his neck strokes Junhoe's cheek, almost tender, and Junhoe is coming in an instant, crying out and tensing every muscle in his body.

 

“Good boy, June. So good,” Bobby breathes.

 

His hips jerk, his rhythm thrown off, and he bites down on the column of Junhoe's neck as he comes.

 

They lay on the couch for a long while afterward, until Junhoe has to get out from under the deceptively heavy Bobby in order to breathe. Both of them are exhausted and quiet, not even looking at each other.

 

Junhoe is worried he's fucked everything up beyond repair.

 

Bobby, at length, sits up, groaning and kicking his pants off, pulling his underwear back up over his hips. “I'm fucking tired,” he says.

 

Junhoe laughs, but there isn't much heart in it. He looks up at Bobby, who is eyeing him in return. “Should we go to bed?” Junhoe asks.

 

“Might be for the best,” Bobby says. “Need to recover before round two.”

 

Awful, bright, sickening hope blooms in Junhoe's chest. “Round two?”

 

Bobby grins, sly. He ruffles Junhoe's hair as he stands and makes his way to Junhoe's bedroom.

 

Junhoe dumbly watches him go, until his brain catches up and he pushes himself to his feet. He hurts, but it's mostly a pleasant hurt. As he passes a mirror, he catches sight of his disheveled state and the clear mark where Bobby bit him.

 

He can't help but smile as he admires it, then chases after Bobby before he can steal all the blankets.

 

Before dawn, there's not only a round two, but a three and four.

 

Junhoe had no idea he was signing up to fuck the horniest guy in the world, but he's not exactly complaining, especially since it feels _so damn good_.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

They settle into a comfortable pattern over the next couple of months. Which boils down to, essentially, whenever they have time (and sometimes when they really, really don't), they have sex.

 

Sometimes they just jerk off together, other times Bobby proves himself to be _way_ kinkier than Junhoe ever figured him for. He's known the guy forever, and thought for sure he knew all there was to know, but he's proven wrong time and time again.

 

Junhoe thought it might help him get over some of his jealousy, but the bitter, acrid taste of envy still lingers at the back of his throat whenever Bobby picks Hanbin over him.

 

One time it even happens while Bobby is balls deep in Junhoe. He gets a call from Hanbin asking where he is, and Bobby just pulls out and leaves to little fanfare. He promises to make it up to Junhoe, but, what the fuck. It's frankly stupid, just how wrapped up in Hanbin Bobby is.

 

Bobby doesn't think it's weird. He doesn't see why he would pick one of his best friends over the other.

 

Because Bobby likes this new arrangement with Junhoe, sure. He likes fucking Junhoe, likes getting his dick sucked, likes that Junhoe isn't scared of some of his more outlandish ideas like girls tend to be, and all of this has the added benefit of Bobby getting to hang out with his oldest friend while also getting laid on the regular. He even gets to go back to his and Hanbin's shared apartment at the end of the night to be with his other best friend.

 

It's the perfect solution, really.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

At least, it's perfect until _feelings_ get thrown into the mix.

 

Bobby will be the absolute first person to admit that maybe in the past he's been a little too vocal about how _not gay_ he is. But it really, really isn't his fault that he's friends with some of like, the hottest guys ever. It'd actually be weird if none of them were at least kind of gay. And it's not like he thinks he wouldn't be accepted by his friends if he were, say, not as straight as he previously had claimed. Bobby is mostly just worried about what him being not so straight would mean for whatever it is that he and Junhoe are doing.

 

He knows how Junhoe feels about him, has known vaguely since Junhoe never seemed to discover girls the way everybody else did and has known more concretely ever since Junhoe pretty much told him in so many words that he's way into Bobby,

 

But Junhoe is Bobby's best, oldest friend. He can't fuck that up.

 

And sure, maybe he's already kind of fucked it up by having sex with Junhoe every time they have an ounce of privacy lately, but he really, really doesn't want to have to go through the kind of world ending heartbreak that would result from actually, really fucking everything up with Junhoe.

 

But they're making out one night and Bobby pulls back, about to suggest they do something even more fun, when he looks at Junhoe and it hits him like a ton of bricks.

 

It's not super poetic or anything, not like his view on life changes or anything like that. Just, very suddenly, Bobby is hammered with the knowledge that he's, like, kinda sorta _super_ in love with Junhoe.

 

He's not even sure why it's occurred to him. It's not that Junhoe is looking particularly hot, though he's always pretty hot. He's just wearing his usual big shirt and sweatpants combo, tonight with the addition of a headband since his hair's gotten a little long. His lips are spit-slick and a little puffy from how long they've been kissing, and there's some game show playing on the TV, and one of Junhoe's socks is missing, and he isn't wearing his earrings, and he's looking at Bobby curiously, and Bobby can see a hickey on Junhoe's collarbone where his shirt collar is stretched out.

 

And Bobby loves him.

 

It's fucking scary.

 

So he bolts, claiming Hanbin just texted and needs him at home, but Bobby can't help but give Junhoe a goodbye kiss so he loses that kind of annoyed, kind of worried look. And Junhoe smiles all sweet up at him and says, “What was that for?” and Bobby gets the _fuck_ out of there because his heart is beating a mile a minute and he needs to talk to somebody about this before he makes a mistake.

 

As he usually does in matters of the heart, Bobby calls Donghyuk.

 

“Hi, hyung!” Donghyuk's chipper voice answers.

 

Bobby is sitting on a park bench, trying not to look like squatter, and he's ridiculously happy that Donghyuk is still awake at this hour. He's had some time to think by now, and he's mostly over his freakout, but he still thinks Donghyuk is the person to turn to in this instance.

 

“Hey, Dongdong,” he says. “Um, are you free to talk?”

 

There's a second of quiet conversation and rustling on Donghyuk's end, and then Donghyuk says, “Yeah, I'm free. Is everything okay? Yunhyeong-hyung and Channie say hi.”

 

“Tell them I say hi, too. Everything is fine. I just need some advice,” Bobby says.

 

Donghyuk lets out a breathy laugh. “Is it another girl?” he says. “You'll have to introduce me to one of them someday.”

 

Bobby swallows. “Um, I think I might be. Like. In love.”

 

There's a pause, and then Donghyuk starts cackling.

 

Bobby endures this in silence, waiting while Donghyuk catches his breath and calms down after apparently receiving the funniest news of his life.

 

“Oh man, Kim Jiwon is in love. That's not what I expected to hear tonight.” Donghyuk hums. “Though, you _have_ been disappearing a lot lately. Sneaking off to see your girl, I guess?”

 

This is the part Bobby is certain he's going to regret. He closes his eyes like it'll lessen the blow if Donghyuk laughs at him about this, too. “He's not a girl.”

 

Another pause, this one longer and not filled with laughter.

 

Donghyuk sighs. “Alright. Um, I think we should have this conversation in person. Come on over.”

 

Bobby makes his way to Donghyuk's apartment, not exactly dragging his feet, but not rushing. It's not how he planned on telling his friends that he isn't as straight as intended, and he's trying his best to figure out how to reveal that the guy he's in love with is none other than their good friend Junhoe.

 

He's buzzed up without an issue, and when Bobby is eventually standing in Donghyuk's living room, Yunhyeong and Chanwoo are staring him down from the loveseat. Intimidated isn't exactly the right word for how he feels when faced with the intense gazes of three of his very good friends, but it's still hard, even though it would be worse Jinhwan were there to laugh in his face.

 

“So,” Yunhyeong starts. “You're gay.”

 

Bobby shrugs. “I don't think I'm gay. Maybe, like, bi. This is, um, my first guy, I guess.”

 

Yunhyeong nods sagely. “I remember my first guy.”

 

Chanwoo smacks Yunhyeong's arm, only a little bit gentle. “You've been with _maybe_ three guys, and you're best friends with all of them.”

 

“I think Jinhwan would be offended if you didn't remember him,” Donghyuk adds.

 

Yunhyeong sniffs. “I thought this was about Bobby.”

 

Chanwoo rolls his eyes, but turns his attention back to Bobby. He crosses his arms, squinting at Bobby like he's suspicious. “First off, is it Hanbin?”

 

Yunhyeong hits Chanwoo, this time. “Don't ask that.”

 

“Why would it be Hanbin? Bobby asks, curious.

 

“You guys are like, tied at the dick,” Chanwoo says. “I mean, if it is Hanbin, I'd only be around thirty-five percent surprised, because I kind of expected it.”

 

“He's trying to come out to us, don't be a dick,” Donghyuk says.

 

Bobby sits down in the armchair, already wishing he hadn't come over at all. He really shouldn't have expected anything else from these guys, though. “It's not Hanbin,” he says, over the sounds of the others squabbling.

 

Donghyuk gives Chanwoo a pointed look. “See? It's not even Hanbin.”

 

“Can you guys just, like, give me advice?” Bobby says. “I'm kind of over the whole 'I'm not straight' thing by now, but either way I've never been in love. Do I tell him? Or do I just, I guess, not? Is there a certain moment I should wait for?”

 

Yunhyeong grins over at Donghyuk. “I mean, Dongdong just kind of blurted it out in the middle of fucking. It was weird timing, but it was really good sex.”

 

“Gross,” Chanwoo says, making a face.

 

Bobby gnaws at his lips. “I don't know if that'll work. I mean, we have sex a lot, but I'm actually worried that if I tell him then, he'll think I don't love him outside of fucking him, you know?”

 

Chanwoo's face grows more disgusted. “I _really_ don't need to know this much about your sex lives.”

 

“Yunhyeong,” Donghyuk says, “put the baby to bed, he's crying.”

 

Chanwoo bristles at being called a baby, but Yunhyeong still carts him out of sight, leaving Donghyuk and Bobby alone.

 

Donghyuk looks at Bobby seriously. “Look, you're overthinking this. I know you're a closet romantic and everything, but the moment you tell someone you love them isn't always some beautiful, perfect moment like it is in dramas.” He grins. “Yunhyeong told me he loved me because I bought his favorite kind of ice cream. Sometimes it's the little things that are more important, you know?”

 

Bobby nods. “I just. I don't wanna mess this up. It- _he_ means a lot to me.”

 

“I never, ever thought I hear you talk like this,” Donghyuk says, quietly delighted. “I can't wait to meet this guy.”

 

“I mean,” Bobby wets his lips. “You know him already. It's, uh. It's June.”

 

Donghyuk blinks in surprise, but recovers his bright smile quickly. “Huh. I can see it. And, I mean, he's only been in love with you for for _ever_ , so I really don't think you have to worry about messing anything up.”

 

Bobby rubs at the back of his neck. “I don't know if he's in _love_ , but, I hope you're right.”

 

“Oh, he's in love,” Donghyuk says. “Take it from me, you don't look at someone the way he looks at you without being face over fuck in love with them.”

 

“Ah, stop,” Bobby says, waving his hands to try and shoo away the words. “I'm nervous enough.”

 

Donghyuk puts his hands up in defeat, but when he settles back against the couch he's smiling in a pleased, almost catlike way. “Really, don't worry about it. You guys are still best friends, even without the whole being in love with him thing.”

 

“Yeah,” Bobby says. “That's true. Thanks.”

 

“No problem,” Donghyuk says, standing and stretching. “But I'm going to have to ask you to either sleep on the couch or go home, because it is way past my bedtime.”

 

Bobby grins. “Okay, grandpa. I'll let you get your beauty sleep. You sure need it.”

 

Donghyuk mock-gasps. “I give you relationship advice and this is the thanks I get? See if I ever help you again.”

 

Bobby crosses the living room to wrap Donghyuk up in a hug, pressing kisses all over his face to see him squirm. “I love you, Dongdong!” he crows, swaying back and forth and nuzzling into Donghyuk's neck.

 

“Okay, okay, get out of here, dummie,” Donghyuk says, pushing at Bobby's face. “Unless you wanna take the couch.”

 

“Ah, I should get back to Hanbin. He gets lonely without me,” Bobby says. “And really, thank you.”

 

Donghyuk opens the door for him. “You're welcome, hyung. Text me when you're home safe.”

 

Bobby salutes with two fingers and heads off down the hall, feeling silly and in love and so, so relieved that he has a friend like Donghyuk. He smiles the whole way home.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

In the end, Donghyuk is right.

 

Junhoe is curled on the couch, his head on Bobby's shoulder while they watch a movie they've both been wanting to see. It's not necessarily a prelude to sex, like most things they do together these days are. Bobby just really wanted to be around Junhoe.

 

Bobby reaches for the popcorn they'd managed to not burn to a crisp but still tastes a bit like fire, and somehow his fingers end up tangled with Junhoe's instead.

 

Junhoe presses a kiss to Bobby's cheek.

 

“Love you,” Bobby says, like it's nothing.

 

Junhoe blinks a few rapid times at Bobby before his face settles into a wide grin, his eyes smiling, too with the force of it.

 

He nudges Bobby. “ _Love_ -love, or just love?” he says, like they're in elementary school.

 

Bobby leans over to kiss Junhoe square on the lips, lingering just because he can. “Depends,” he says, smiling right back. “Do you love me too?”

 

“As if that isn't obvious,” Junhoe says.

 

“But hyung wants to hear his Junie say it,” Bobby pouts.

 

Junhoe scoffs, pushing Bobby's face to the side, but he's definitely blushing. “Shut up,” he says. “I love you, too. Is that good enough for you?”

 

Bobby kisses him quick and chaste. “One more time? For me?”

 

Junhoe sighs like it's a monumental task. “I love you, even though you're stupid.”

 

“Stupid for you,” Bobby says.

 

“Ugh, too corny. I don't love you anymore,” Junhoe says, trying to extract himself from Bobby.

 

Bobby whines, holding tight to Junhoe's hand and pulling him in close, pressing little kisses all over his face. “I'm sorry, baby. How can I make it up to you?”

 

Junhoe hums thoughtfully, and it morphs into a sigh as Bobby kisses over his favorite spot to mark. “I don't know. Maybe I could think of a thing or two.”

 

Bobby catches Junhoe's mouth with his own, and they breathe one another in like the other is oxygen, like all the cheesy shit Junhoe pretends to hate but writes about in the poems he's never shown to anyone. Junhoe could think of a hundred, million, billion things Bobby could do. A thousand trillion things the two of them could do as long as they were together.

 

He hopes that the awkward kid who discovered a praise kink by accident is proud of the progress they've made. But, Junhoe _is_ that kid, so he can say his answer is absolute, definitive, unchangeable.

 

Immutably, inexorably, impossibly _yes._

 

Yes until the sun stops shining, yes until the planet stops turning, yes until his insides don't light up at just a glance from Bobby.

 

They forget about the movie.

 

There are more pressing matters to attend to.

 


End file.
